Habeus Corpus
by cruorem
Summary: I always wondered whose was the body that Ed and Al transmutated instead of their mother. AU; contains spoilers. The final debt of Edward Elric. Please critique this unoriginal story.
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks to Jedi Goat, this work is readable. She is a wonderful beta. And thanks also to my mentor, Animaniac. She is excellent as well.**

**Please review if you read.**

**PLEASE READ: -Spoilers for the manga-This is an AU from Edwards's final meeting with "Truth" (where he lost his alchemic abilities and got Al's body back) on. There is an OC who plays a central part, but he is not a romantic interest of anyone's. There is nothing homosexual in this fiction; in fact it's as squeaky clean as a baboon's behind; rather, a dog's mouth. No, as though it was shot with UV radiation. Okay, let the stupidity ensue (further). **

"There is another thing."

"What?"

"You have a final debt to settle before your brother gets his body back."

"What is it?"

"The thing you transmutated, it was not your mother. You know this."

"Yeah."

"Well, he wants his body back. And I can't give him his, because of you. "

"Well what do you want me to do about it?" Edward paused. "Wait, who wants..."

"Yours will do."

Before Edward realized, his heart began to still. Feeling, physicality was fading from his essence. Nothing of him was moving. His perception seemed to be rapidly altering. He couldn't sense time nor space any more. It was almost as if he were in one and many spots simultaneously.

_My flesh, it's gone._

He didn't hear. He didn't see. He merely was conscious. And he became cognizant of so much in one moment. But in that instant, even quantity took on a different meaning.

_Wait._

Edward found it strange, he wanted to halt whatever was happening, but there was no time to stop. Then again, why did he want that?

_But, I won't see them again. _

It didn't appear to matter any longer. His brother was getting his body back, and that was all he'd been aiming to achieve. As long as that was accomplished, as long as they were happy, their desires were granted, what did it mean that he should leave them?

_They have each other. Al, Winry, they don't really need me._

Edward couldn't remember a reason. He didn't recall the limited, with infinity encompassing his soul.

Martin was. Tangibly. And he was engulfed in something, once very familiar, but presently he couldn't define it.

_Its name, it's called darkness. _

The blackness was foreboding, bleak, everywhere. Very unpleasant.

Abruptly he became aware of something else, again, once well known, but something nameless in his fragment of memory.

Unpleasant also; he wanted to be rid of it. How? There wasn't a way.

_No …this is pain. _

The sensation permeated his being, and internally erupted sadness, irritation, and anger.

This was also not supposed to be there. Its existence was useless, damaging. If only he knew how to make it go away.

_Wait, pain is a feeling. I'm feeling._

Then he must be corporeal. He was imprisoned in a body again. Flesh, blood, nerves, marrow, all of it he was aware of in an instant. Emotions burst forth, so intertwined and violent he was incapable of discerning them.

_I am, I am of matter._

Mass was his. He could touch; sense finitely.

He was within darkness. Therefore he was asleep.

_Wake up._

Martin forced open his eyes, and was momentarily blinded. Light flooded everything, inducing discomfort. Energy had not been to him for so long.

After a bit he tried once more.

Above him there was a stark whiteness_._

Around him was coldness_._

Under him was something soft_._

He smelled, _sterilizing chemicals._

He heard, _people, walking, talking._

He felt, _threads, fabric, starched white sheets._

_I'm in a hospital._

Automatically he started. Slowly and carefully he sat up, concentrating on every muscle used to accomplish this motion. He scrutinized his surroundings.

And spied a brunette boy slumped in a chair in the corner of the room.

The boy awakened at the moment Martin laid eyes on him, and he leapt to his feet.

The child was immediately beside Martin, and then he was embracing him.

Martin tensed, shocked at the forwardness and general speed of the kid.

Naturally, it was the person's following words that truly scared him.

"Brother", the boy said.

_Brother?_

It was then Martin began to acknowledge his present vessel. He was Caucasian, skin slightly tanned. His hair was a golden blonde and fell to his shoulders. The muscles were hard but not fully developed. He was an adolescent. And he shared the blood of this boy holding him if the child's reaction to his rising was any indication.

"Seriously, what were you thinking, you…" Alfonse's rant was cut off by the lump forming in his throat.

"Who are you?" Martin blinked with surprise at the sound of his own voice.

Martin felt the kid stiffen. Alfonse quickly met the eyes of his sibling, which were unmistakably clouded with confusion.

"Brother…"

Alfonse exhaled slowly, trying to keep himself collected, and reason his way through his present trial. He was failing miserably. The only consanguine family he had left in the world didn't know him. No, he merely didn't remember him.

_Amnesia really isn't that bad…or unexpected, considering what he went through. _

But then, Alfonse did not know in reality, what exactly the ordeal was that his sibling had endured. He was aware that it had involved "The Truth", or whatever that alchemic entity decided to call itself. Edward had told him that much about the meeting that transpired after the boy had been sucked into that abyss post human transmutation attempt.

Yet, his data went no further.

He sat back on the bench awkwardly. Some actions were still strangely difficult for him to execute properly without thinking through them. He had just become so used to that clunky armor, any smooth motion was hard.

Perhaps the most challenging part of his present circumstance was that Edward insisted that he was named Martin. Alfonse had no clue where that particular name could have come from. They had precious few people they called relatives, and not one possessed that moniker. Neither did any of their friends or acquaintances.

The teen sat incredibly still for what seemed to him an eternity, his mind despairingly blank.

Simply, he had no idea of what to do, and no inspiration impregnated his overstressed brain.

_I guess there isn't anything I can do, except go home. _

To what? Alphonse didn't think that he could continue a life without the person with whom he'd suffered his greatest agonies. In every stage of suffering there was that one person who made it possible to persist and hope. Trying to assume their past condition bereft of Edward, as Edward, was essentially doomed to fail from the start.

_So, I can't go back. Winry and Granny, how could I explain it to them if I have no idea what's happened I?_

_Maybe after a day or two I'll get used to this._

He actually was not uncomfortable with his new container. It was strong and agile, despite the automail leg.

Spontaneously he jumped up, bringing his knees to his chest and then landing hard on his feet. When the automail met the floor a resounding "clank" pervaded the air. Martin glanced about himself self consciously. Satisfied no one had heard he turned back to his reflection in the full-length mirror.

He was satisfied with his circumstance+. Even if he was a child he was physically adept. He wasn't ugly. His body was healthy. In fact there was but one aspect of his new self that he truly couldn't be happy with:

_Why am I so short? _

**Were the characters girly? Always am afraid of that. And the word "that" appeared quite a bit in here. What's a synonym for "that"?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

**If anyone reads this, please criticize. Characterization will never be my forte. Thank yous.**

"Uh, Ed?"

Alphonse cautiously placed his hand on Martin's trembling shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"It… moves, so quickly."

"Is he okay?" a man in the opposite compartment inquired, concern apparent on his features.

"I don't know," Alphonse replied while attempting to gently pull Martin out from under the seat. Martin merely forced himself further into the small compartment. Only his head, and his left shoulder and leg fit.

Alphonse stared.

The old Ed never got motion sickness. Neither did he, as far as he could recall. And as such, he really didn't know what to do for Amnesiac Ed.

They had to have dimenhydrinate up front if they called themselves a transportation service.

"Hey, Ed, I'm going to go ask the attendant for-"

Martin's hand was suddenly gripping Alphonse's ankle hard enough to cut off circulation.

"Please, don't leave me alone."

"It's just to get medicine."

"No, I don't want to die alone."

Alphonse almost smiled.

"I'm pretty sure this isn't a fatal illness."

Alphonse's leg was starting to fall asleep. He knelt and tried to pry Martin's digits off, beginning with the thumb, deliberately ignoring the passengers beginning to gather behind him.

Abruptly, Martin was out of the box and jerking open the window.

"Hey! No, go to the toilet-"

The sound of rapid regurgitation told Alphonse he was too late to save the train.

Even before the train stopped Martin jumped onto the platform, collapsing the moment his feet touched the cement.

Alphonse however, was not eager to be so heedless, having just retrieved his body only days ago.

He plowed through the crowd with both bags in hand, reaching his brother in time to hear him loudly vow to never set foot on the 'metal beasts' again.

Apparently Ed had lost whatever self awareness he'd had as well as his memory.

Al shoved his bag into his arms and led him away quickly, earnest in avoiding any more melodrama.

"Wait here" he commanded, and found his way to a payphone.

He put in a few coins and dialed a very familiar number, one he'd used most often in times of emergency. It was answered on the third ring.

"Hello" Winry's voice was distorted through the phone lines.

Al tried to reply, and all he managed was breathing.

"Hello?"

_Winry, I'm coming home. I've got my body back. Ed won't remember you. I'm sorry Winry._

_But I'll finally be able to see if you're cooking is really as bad as he said it is._

"I can hear you breathing, would you answer me? Who is this?"

_Everything's over Winry. The president was a homunculus, but he's dead now. So is my father._

_But it's good as long as we are alive._

She sighed into the receiver.

_Okay, see you in twenty minutes or so._

She hung up.

Al turned about, finding Ed coming up behind him with their suit cases.

Alphonse grabbed his and started down the road, his brother trailing trustingly behind him.

**Thanks. God bless, and spay your goldfish.**


	3. Chapter 3

Immortality…

That's what all men with pleasures to live for desired.

They could go on living forever, in comfort, never weakening with age, never rotting in the dirt.

The king was no different.

But he was more desperate.

He daily counted the grey hairs on his scalp, as if he could measure his remaining years with them.

Martin never told him his search was futile.

He wasn't in a hurry to die in agony.

So he did whatever his lord requested.

The king was mentally unstable.

Most of his vassals knew this.

The king was the only one he lived with who was ignorant of this fact.

Martin was especially aware.

His master had him unearthing maggot-ridden corpses and dissecting them piece by piece every night.

"I must know the secret of life, in order to possess it eternally." The monarch told Martin frequently in his vacant monologues.

Martin was the closest person to the sovereign.

He was his alchemist.

He was the man the king trusted to grant him eternal life.

**Thanks. God bless. Don't forget your towel. **


End file.
